There are maybe six or seven guys total, all armed, all watching us with varying degrees of interest. Some are paying more attention than others. But there’s one man who stands apart from the group, his face is uncovered, and he’s clearly the one in charge. He’s handing out orders to everyone around, and people are looking at him like they respect him.
There’s something about the way he holds himself. The outline of his body looks remotely familiar, but I can’t place it.
He turns around to face us, and my blood runs cold.
Son of a bitch. It’s Cody. This is how his ass was getting money without Magnolia knowing about it. There’s no telling how many of these damn things he’s opened. Which is why he needs money, and then he’s flush with cash.
This changes everything.
Holy fuck.
Every muscle in my body locks up, and it takes everything I have to keep my expression neutral behind the mask, so that my eyes don’t give me away. Dakota’s hand lands on my shoulder, a brief squeeze that says I see it too, stay calm.
“Tim, Wallace,” Cody says, his voice carrying that same arrogant edge I remember from every other time I’ve talked to this motherfucker. “Glad you could make it. I’ve heard a lot about the two of you.”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” I say, making sure my voice is steady. Chances are he’s never paid enough attention to my voice to recognize me by it.
His gaze does roam over me, stopping at my feet, tilting his head as he looks at my boots, then goes back up. Luckily my tattoos are covered, and I’ve made sure to keep them covered every time I’ve been here. If for any reason he may have seen me coming or going in the distance, he hasn’t seen those tattoos.
“Here’s how this works,” Cody continues, pacing in front of us like some kind of general addressing his goddamn troops. He gets off on this fucking bullshit. “We’ve stocked Freedom Farms with plenty of game—deer, rabbit, whatever you can find. Your job is to prove you actually know how to hunt. Each of you needs to take down at least one animal. Doesn’t matter what, as long as you prove you’re not going to fuck up when it counts.” He tilts his head to the side. “We’ve had people who just want to get out here and see what we’ve got going on. They couldn’t actually hunt if their life depended on it. We’ve got to weed out the observers, you get it right?”
One of the other men hands out rifles, checking each one like he knows what the fuck he’s doing. I take mine, the weight familiar in my hands. I’ve been hunting since I was old enough to hold a gun; my dad and grandfather made sure of that. But this feels so fucking wrong.
“Any questions?” Cody asks, that smirk still playing at his lips.
“No sir,” several of the men respond.
“Good. You’ve got until dark. Happy hunting.”
The group disperses into the woods, and Dakota and I hang back slightly, moving together with the ease of best friends who’ve trained as partners. We’ve never left each other alone and we’re not going to start now. Once we’re far enough away from the others, Dakota leans in close.
“That’s her husband, Cody, right?” he whispers.
Dakota hasn’t been as tied into Molly’s life as I have. He knows people on the periphery, but not the intimate way I do.
“Ex-husband,” I correct, my jaw tight. “Almost.”
“Fuck, man. This isn’t looking great. Obviously Magnolia doesn’t know about this shit, right?”
I can’t say it for sure, but I’m pretty positive she would’ve said something to me about this before now. “Yeah.”
We move deeper into the property, and it doesn’t take long to realize this place is exactly what Director Drake suspected, and what Randy implied. There are too many deer for this to be natural, their tracks are everywhere, the property clearly stocked for this exact purpose.
My mind is racing. Cody is involved in this. The man who’s been tormenting Magnolia, who drained her bank accounts, who’s making her life hell; he’s the ringleader of an illegal breeding and hunting operation.
She married this man, trusted him, and now she’s terrified of him. I’m beginning to realize why.
A deer appears in my sights, and muscle memory takes over. Hunting isn’t my favorite, I’ve always kind of had too soft a heart for it. But I learned in case I ever needed to, and so I could hang out with the family. I line up the shot, exhale slowly, and squeeze the trigger. The animal drops, clean and quick, just the way I like it.
“Nice shot,” Dakota murmurs.
We track and tag it according to the rules Cody laid out, then move on. Dakota takes down a rabbit about thirty minutes later, his shot just as clean.
By the time we make our way back to the main area, the sun is starting to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. The other hunters are already there. They obviously know each other as they give each other shit, and laugh about stupid mistakes they made.
Cody surveys the group, nodding with satisfaction. “Good work, boys. Looks like you all know what you’re doing.”
His eyes land on Dakota and me, and I force myself to meet his gaze without flinching.
